Dif-tor heh smusma, Star Trek fans! Live long and prosper. And, if you enjoy this story, you can read the rest of the saga between Spock and Eveline Delesprit - precursor Taldurin Nights, and sequel Tempting Fate - by clicking on my name above. Thanks for stopping by, peace and long life.

I stared down the barrel of a microscope, and three eukaryotes stared back. Wispy and green, with bright orange, central nuclei. Against the blackness that my peripheral eye cast around their forms, they looked almost like galaxies. Unfathomably large macrocosms, shrunken into tiny, unblinking, building blocks. I yawned.

Currently, the U.S.S. Enterprise floated - as still as these careless cells - in orbit around Sanduri IV. It is the smallest, uninhabited, planet in the Zuggtmoy system. This is what the Ship's Computer told us. Likewise, currently, Captain James T. Kirk, Chief Science Officer Spock, and Chief Engineer Montgomery Scott are stationed on Sanduri IV in response to a particularly disturbing censor reading picked up by the Chief Science Officer. This is what Ensign Chekov told us. As for me?

I ran long, delicate fingers through frizzled stands of curling burgundy hair, held too tightly to my scalp in an attempt to stay awake for long hours in the brightly lit, Biological Sciences Section of sector four, my new home. I stretched long legs out underneath the desk and curled and uncurled sock-laden toes while my Federation-issued boots lay in an organized heap, just beyond the reach of my flexing digits.

I glanced around the room. My roommate, Astro-Geologist, Ensign Gracie McKendrey too looked as if she could fall asleep at any moment, while Hydro-Specialist, Doctor Matrin Yurin watched her beyond his reading glasses with less than honest intent. Two environmental scientists, whose names I had yet to gather, bickered silently, while a young, blonde Astro-Botanist by the last name of Pell appeared to be doing some sort of unsanctioned experiment involving lichen and hydrochloric acid. I watched him for a few minutes, when he noticed I was staring. He smiled a large, bright-white, toothy smile, and then turned his back to me so that I could no longer see. I sighed. Leaned back in my chair stretching out a long, curved back and letting my ass sink deeper into that cushioned seat. Then waited.

Another uneventful day in space.

—

Pew! Pew! Brzzzt!

Phaser blasts went off like wildfire.

Captain Kirk, Chief Science Officer Spock, and Chief Engineer Scott formed a tightly-knit triangle, back to back, and turned as their phasers fired one after another, sending giant sentient fungus after giant sentient fungus to hell in blasts of blue light.

Ensign Marcus O'Leary, Astro-Botanist, and Ensign Danielle Vella, Engineer, lay dead just beyond their reach. Their red shirts glistened in the pounding sun of Sanduri like blood-soaked beacons. A reminder of the impending doom.

Despite the fight, more and more of these humanoid lichen moved in on the commanders, until in a fury of phasers and screams, they were overtaken.

—

The flashing light above the sliding door of the Biological Sciences Section dinged green. A call we were quite used to. I half expected it to blink red and being to buzz, but then I remembered with a soft sight of relief that if anything, Chief Science Officer Spock was a man of his word. Doctor Martin Yurin ran his hands over the characteristic spines across his high cheeks and forehead and through his greying and receding hair, turning from Grace to myself.

"Pell. Delesprit. Take the information on the fungus that was sent here and bring it to the bridge. The captain has returned."

"Sir? I am a herpet-." I didn't get the chance to finish.

"Damn it Ensign, I know. O'Leary went down with them or else I would have sent him."

I sighed, standing and joining the young plant-murderer who now carried a small tricorder. Its red light flashed slowly with a distant blip-blip.

"Doctor." I acknowledge, boots returned to my feet, and saluted him cordially before leaving through the sliding door with my companion.

I studied Pell immediately, rational brain always on overdrive. I believe that he's about 18, though he looked as if he couldn't be a day over 15. Wide, impish face, big, far apart, watery blue eyes, little pink rosebud of a mouth, and a mop of curly, dirty-blonde hair that gave him that prodigy sort of look. Though our uniforms were all perfectly tailored to our body specs, he still managed to somehow look as if he were swimming in his trousers, and he walked a pace too quickly for it to be natural, and slouched his shoulders in a way that reminded me of a cartoon character from my childhood who's name I could not remember. I kind of liked him, until he opened his mouth.

"Doctor Yurin only sent you away so that he could be alone with your roommate without you always looking over your shoulder."

"What?"

"Oh come on." He looked at me over his shoulder, still a few paces ahead, with a crooked, malicious smile. The tricorder in his small hands blipped gleefully.

"You're always watching him watch her. He's got a huge boner for whatever-her-name-is. Pretty girl, big tits, sexy accent. He's just waiting for the opportunity to show her something "scientifically relevant" in the microarray room."

'Scientifically relevant' was Doctor Martin Yurin's catchphase. As well as 'theoretically speaking'.

I scoffed, "How old are you?"

"17."

Damn, I am good.

"You sure act like it. How could you possibly be an Astro-Botanist at 17?"

Pell stopped and mockingly scrunched his face up like a child and said, "I'm real smart." He extended the word 'real' out almost as much as his little lungs had air left to be mocking.

I blew him off with a flick of my hand.

"Come on." He said. Perhaps 'come on' was his catchphrase. "He probably got a hand up that tiny skirt the second you walked out. Denobulans' take three spouses after all." He winked, and pretended to thrust at me.

"Stop being gross." I shook my head, and walked in front of him.

"Oh come on! You're jealous. I mean yeah, you're hot. Kind of tall. But the only guy who looks at Eveline Delesprit is Rob Nixon, the slow security personnel. And he is seriously slow. Like smashing bugs with a rock all day slow. Someone must have given him a good fall when he was a kid. Turned out to be a brute, though."

I furrowed my eyebrows and chewed at my pink, bottom lip. Oh god, that explains so much. Poor Rob. I made a mental note to maybe not be so nice to him all the time. Scratch it, I can't not be nice. Especially to slow Rob. I shouldn't call him that.

I snapped out of it.

"Get moving, Pell. We may be equals but I'm at least older than you."

"Hell yeah you are, what are you like, 30? You have smile lines."

"I'm 28, Pell. I'm a masters in Herpetology and I am beautiful and wicked smart and more men than just Rob Nixon are interested in me, I can assure you."

"Right, keep telling yourself that."

At that moment, we turned down the hallway which led past the transporter room and towards the bridge. The door slid open, and out from it emerged Captain James T. Kirk and Chief Engineer Montgomery Scott. Pell and I stopped in our tracks, raising our hands in salute.

Captain Kirk swung his body around towards us, in an off, unnatural manner, while Chief Engineer Scott moved forwards with considerable control. They did not speak. As they moved closer, I noticed that they both had vibrant green eyes. Flashing with color. Not normal. Kirk has hazel eyes. I was certain of it.

"Pell," I managed to whisper, but my declaration was cut short by a streak of blue light, jutting down the hallway and whizzing between the two of us, striking the floor with a powerful crack and sending shards of metal and dust flying into the air. Both Pell and I dove out of the way of the blast. I crawled a few feet and then pulled myself off the ground.

Pew! Brzzzt! I managed to dodge out of the way just as another streak of blue phaser light cracked against the ceiling, shattering the lights and sending sparks raining down.

The hallway was filling with smoke. With limited visibility, I scattered. But I didn't make it more than 5 paces before a strong hand gripped at my hair, pulling it loose of it's unkempt knot, and another wrapped itself around my mouth - muffling my cries.

My cheek slammed up against the cold, metallic wall of the Enterprise. The smoke was fading. I could smell the hot scent of liquor as his words slithered against my ear, raising the hairs on my neck.

"Oh, Ensign. You are a pretty thing aren't you? No wonder Spock couldn't say no. I can't either."

I whimpered, attempting to bite down on the hand that gripped my mouth as the Captain's knee jutted between my thighs and the weight of his body pressed me closer to the hard bones of the ship.

I heard a body fall in the scuffle behind me. No cry. Just the thud of flesh hitting the floor. Tears started to swell in my eyes.

"Mmm, you're even prettier when you cry. Go on…" He wrenched my head backwards, tugging on my hair so hard I screamed out into his hand. "I like it when they put up a fight. Fight me, Ensign. Make it rough."

I kicked my leg backwards, heel jamming into the top of his boot with all my weight. Nothing. I pressed my arms against the ship in an attempt to shove him backwards off of me. Nothing. Nothing nothing. Fuck, fuck.

Brzzzt!

The sound was deafening. I've never been that close to a phaser blast. I screamed and pushed myself away from the wall and the slumping body of Captain Kirk, stepping backwards without looking into the outstretched arms of Pell, jumping when I felt him, and turning around with my own phaser raised.

He was bleeding from his forehead.

At his feet lay Chief Engineer Scott, stunned.

"I'm sorry for what I said earlier. It's not funny." Pell's words fell from his mouth with a rasping hopefulness that his apology would fix whatever just happened to us. It wouldn't.

"What's you name?" I asked.

"Mikey."

"Mikey, I owe you my life."

Twenty feet ahead, next to the still open door of the transporter room, I pressed the large silver button on the ships communicator. Ensign Chekov's face, blurry but visible, appearing on the screen.

"Red Alert, Ensign Chekov!" I screamed through the screen in panicked breaths. "Captain Kirk, Chief Engineer Scott!"

"Eveline, watch out!" Mikey called. I could see the reflection in the screen. Chief Engineer Scott had risen, phaser raised to the back of my head.

I ducked just in time, as the blast singed my ear and hit the communicator in full force, destroying it.

The ship exploded with sound. Weem-weem! As red lights began to flash throughout the hallways.

And I ran for my life. I ran with my phaser raised, without turning around, as fast as my long legs could carry me, grabbing Mikey Pell by the shirtsleeve and dragging him with me.

Pew! Brzzzt!

Another shot of blue light hit the floor. I turned around and fired wildly and blindly, phaser set to stun. Pell joined me. Blasts were firing and slamming against everything in the hall. I had a flashback to a classical movie I remembered watching my freshmen year at University in film class. Strange space travelers dressed in white full-body armor, firing madly and never hitting their target. Sweat was forming a film at my hairline and tears still stained my cheeks. Then we did hit someone. Scott first, fell with a hard thud at the end of my phaser. Then Kirk too, as Pell, with closed eyes, fired a stunning shot right into the Captain's forehead.

We ran down the halls, dipping and diving, through the mass of flashing red light, until with relief we found our chambers, parted, and locked the doors behind us.

"Computer, do not let anyone inside without the code."

"Certainly, Ensign Eveline Delesprit." The softly feminine, but robotic voice responded.

I was alone. Though the room was silent, I was surrounded with sound - the ragged pants of my breath, the pounding of my heart, and the ringing of my ears - a deafening reminder. I pressed two fingers to my throat. Epinephrine? I moved my hand lower, grazing against the curve of my breasts. Cortisol. I leaned upwards onto my forearms, and when I finally opened my eyes again, tears were still running from them.

I buried my face in my palms, when suddenly, the door opened.

"Grace?" I exclaimed, jolting upward from my bed. But it wasn't Grace.

Standing in the doorway, powder blue, Federation-issued shirt slightly ripped and revealing the soft, black curls that graced his chest, and solemn face locked onto my own, was Chief Science Officer Spock.

"How did you get in here?" I asked, frightened. His eyes were a beautiful, but nightmarish, flashing green.

"I wanted to see you, Eveline. I…I used my clearance to get your door code when it didn't just let me in." The Officer held up his tricorder for me to see. It bleeped.

I didn't speak. My muscles tense. I was frightened of him, of those eyes, just like Kirks.

He moved towards me slowly, setting the tricorder down on my bedside table and joining me on the bed. He tilted his head, examining my face with a gentle curiosity. He reached out long, delicate fingers, and I flinched at his touch. He held still for a moment. Though his bizarre green eyes flickered with madness, they met mine with an alien familiarity. Slowly, he continued, brushing the tears away from my cheeks.

"Your face is wet."

"Spock, what's wrong with you?" My voice was begging him even though I didn't want it to.

"Me? I'm perfect, except that you're afraid."

He reached his arms around me, wrapping them tightly around my back and drawing me in, comfortingly, to his chest. He buried his face in my hair and held me lovingly, quietly breathing me in, then kissed my forehead.

"Please don't be sad, Eveline. You're making me sad." A tear-stained streak graced his pallid cheek.

I swallowed a dry mouth. Since Taldurin Beta, three months prior, Spock had done little to acknowledge our engagement. I hadn't expected otherwise. I hadn't expected romance. I hadn't even expected a return visit. Though I suppose that I had hoped for all of them, even one of them. Chief Engineer Scott would have killed me. Captain Kirk would have likely made me wish I were dead. But this? This was serious cruelty.

I pulled my delicate, freckled face from his chest. Pale, pink lips slightly parted and eyebrows furrowed into an honestly frightened, but somehow uncontrollably playful pout.

"James was going to hurt me." Spock raised his eyebrows and frowned, running his hands down my arms and intertwining his left hand with my own, fingers laced.

"I won't let him. You're safe now, you have me. And I promise I will never let anyone hurt you."

He raised his free hand to my pixie-like chin, tilting it gently and leaned forward to meet my mouth in a soft, warm, liquid kiss. My eyes fluttered closed, mind flooded with memories I had tried so hard to hold onto.

"You're mine, Eveline. Always."

My heart was racing, pupils dilated, blood pumping with cortisol. This was not Spock. Not the man I wanted. But gods, did I want this. Did I dream of this moment.

I reached my hand upwards, pressing my palm against his neck, tracing the masculine curve of his throat, running trembling fingers over his collar bone, over his exposed chest. I could feel his pulse quicken in his throat. I untangled our fingers and with my other free hand, slid it under his shirt, pressing my palm under his ribs and biting my lip. Lub-dub. Lub-dub. The Vulcan flushed.

"I dream about you, Eveline. I miss you." He wrapped his arm around my back and gently lowered me onto the bed.

I felt the warm touch of his fingers as the pressed high against the inside of my thigh, and quietly gasped.

"You're bruised." His voice was filled with concern.

"I'm going to be okay."

Then, he smiled. I had seen this smile flash over his face before. Ephemeral. But this one stayed. It felt so real. He nodded in response to my dismissal of an experience that at this moment, I tried to forget. Gathering my face in both hands, he leaned over me and kissed me fully. I could feel his racing heart pressed against my stomach.

I slid my hand down his tensing abdomen, finding the band of his trousers and passing it, moving my fingers through a tangle of hair. He parted our kiss. Chest rising. Lips parted. Green eyes glistening. No. I cupped his high cheekbones with my free hand, fingers grazing a cut on his forehead that I hadn't before seen. Cut deep, looked painful. And there was something in it. Something green. Something strangely familiar. I cocked my head.

What in space?

It was the lichen that Pell had been experimenting with…and it was…throbbing?

Chief Science Officer Spock furrowed his dark, slanted eyebrows and frowned.

"What is the matter?" He asked.

I emitted an overpowering, internal sigh. My heart was slowing. My adrenal glands had managed to come to terms with my earlier shock and were no longer sending pulses through my system. My, well, nearly all of me had managed to put on the breaks. My head at least. And I had to get a closer look at his forehead.

"Spock, I can't. I've had a bad day. You're not yourself."

"I am myself." He asserted.

"You're not. You're not acting like the Vulcan I know." I began to slip from his grasp.

"Please. Don't leave me this way." His expression was stern but exuded an overwhelming sense of wanting.

"I am so filled with longing, Eve - with fear, with lust, with love - so hopeful, so honest…so, so Human."

He was wracked with emotions, his face twisted with them.

My heart ached for him in this moment.

"I desire this." His voice a low rumble. "More than anything."

More than anything. Illogical. But my mouth was curling into a little half smile. So, it's not Spock, not fully. But, it is Spock's body. Besides, I needed to get a closer look. Something was wrong with him, something that had to do with this strange lichen, the one Pell was examining in the lab. Something happened on Sanduri IV, something I needed to solve, and then stop. But not now.

He tucked loose strands of red-brown tresses behind my ear. Big, square, male fingers finding their way lower, and removed my small, pale blue uniform. Gripping my ankles, he pulled me down against the sheets.

My eyes widened and I emitted a low purr - lashes fluttering closed. Oh, Vulcan. Where did you learn this, I wonder?

"Mmm." He growled.

"Spock?"

In response, he brushed his nose against the tender, bruised flesh on the inside of my upper thigh, sending shivers up my spine.

"This is what I desire, too."